


I Would Love You If I Could

by katherine1753



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine1753/pseuds/katherine1753
Summary: John Segundus expected his Friday to go like every other Friday: do some research, write some articles, have drinks with his co-workers at the pub down the street. Except this time, he finds himself in need of rescue. Childermass saves him, and Segundus is very grateful, but now the whole office thinks they're dating. He might have made a bit of a mistake.And now they have to share a room at an upcoming work conference.And Segundus has been harboring some feelings for quite some time that he hasn't altogether figured out yet.
Relationships: John Childermass/John Segundus
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

When John Segundus arrived at work, he assumed it would be just like any other Friday workday: research some new topics, finish writing up his articles for the next issue going to print, and drinks after work at the pub a few blocks down with his coworkers. It was a steady routine, and John was quite comfortable. The excitement in his life came from his work, his research. He’d been working for Gilbert Norrell’s magazine ‘The Practical Magician’ for almost five years now. It was an odd place to work, an odd little magazine, but it suited him quite well. The magazine published various articles about science, nature, modern marvels, and magic, all from a very scholarly point of view. It was a good job, it paid decently enough, and it allowed Segundus to do whatever research he pleased. 

Though he’d been working there for nearly five years, he’d only met Mr. Norrell maybe twice. Norrell owned the magazine and also wrote for it, he even lived in the flat above their tiny office, but he was reclusive and so it was Jonathan Strange who had become the face of the company. Strange was in the office daily and had a good rapport with all of the employees. He was charming, clever, a brilliant researcher. He’d been the one who interviewed and hired Segundus. Strange’s job title was technically ‘intern’ at one point, and John wasn’t sure if it ever got officially changed by Norrell in the near decade he’d worked there, but the man had been unofficially promoted many, many times. He called himself the co-director, and no one had ever stopped him. 

Segundus was happy to call Jonathan Strange a friend. He’d made many at this job, and it made every day at work all the more pleasant. He was closest with Mr. Honeyfoot, the head of HR. Or, well, the entire department really. He was a sweet older man that had been incredibly welcoming and friendly even from day one. Arabella Strange (their illustrator and Jonathan’s wife) and Emma Pole (their graphic designer) often went to lunch with Segundus and Honeyfoot. There was always an intern or two hanging around, and John usually found them to be generally pleasant and eager students, and was more than happy to teach them new research methods and proper citation techniques. 

Then there were Henry Lascelles and Christopher Drawlight, the social media marketing team. Christopher was nice enough, if a little too extravagant with some of his posts. Henry...Henry, Segundus wasn’t sure about. He did good, thorough work, but there was something behind his smile that made John uncomfortable and he was glad that he didn’t have to work too closely with him. And that nearly rounded out the entire staff, with the exception of Norrell’s assistant: John Childermass. 

Childermass was an assistant in every form of the word, fulfilling all of Norrell’s needs from coffee runs to scheduling his meetings (and often going in his stead), to writing and editing his articles. Childermass was an enigma. He was nearly always in the building or off on some errand, he rarely spoke unless asked a direct question or if he had something important to point out (and even then it was concise and incredibly logical), and he could often be found leaning on some bookshelf or in his doorway if you needed to find him. But the times Segundus did get to talk to him, he found the man was full of clever insights and he seemed to genuinely enjoy their discussions. Segundus tried to make a habit of it, he often looked forward to their conversations. 

And though they talked relatively regularly, Segundus found he only really knew three things about John Childermass (and even then, those three were a stretch): 

  1. Childermass must not sleep much. He was always the first one there in the morning to open the office and he was usually the last to leave, often staying late to finish up some things for Mr. Norrell.
  2. Childermass hated Henry Lascelles. Absolutely loathed him. And it seemed rather mutual. Segundus wasn’t sure why or for how long or if they’d always been this way; they’d both been at the magazine longer than he had and their feud was well in place by then. It often looked rather volatile, like something about to erupt, but they managed to keep it under control most of the time with glares (from Childermass) and petty insults (from Lascelles). Segundus was glad not to be on the receiving end of either. 
  3. Childermass had a girlfriend, and it seemed like a rather serious relationship. Perhaps they were engaged, but Childermass had never mentioned anything about a proposal. Or anything about her, for that matter. Segundus didn’t think they were married, Childermass didn’t wear a ring. But one evening when the office was headed to their usual Friday drinks, Honeyfoot had, as usual, cheerfully invited Childermass along and, as usual, Childermass had politely declined. Except, this time, he mentioned that he had to get home to Hannah, and that she was expecting him. Honeyfoot had laughed, and called him a kept man, to which Childermass had only quirked up one side of his mouth into a little half-smile and returned to his corner of the office. And that was that. Segundus had never seen Hannah in the years since that conversation, but nothing seemed to change about Childermass’s routine, so surely things were still the same. He’d never seen Hannah at any work parties, even when Childermass did reluctantly attend, but he’d met Honeyfoot’s wife so many times that she was practically a second mother to him. 



And though Segundus liked to know more about his friends, he was content enough with his relationship with Childermass. He enjoyed their conversations, even if they were just about work things and sometimes Segundus’s life. Childermass was a private man, and John could respect that. 

And so John Segundus had his routine, and his work, and his friends. And he was happy. Content. His Friday at work passed just like every Friday; he finished up a submission for the next issue of the magazine, planned out his next project to research, and had lunch with Emma and Arabella. He had a brief talk with Childermass about a species of bird recently found in Australia that had been thought to be extinct. Nothing out of the ordinary, a regular Friday. Except, when the usual group left the office to head to the pub that evening, Childermass joined them. It wasn’t  _ that _ abnormal, he’d come along before occasionally, but it was rare. Segundus found himself flush a little with excitement, he’d been hoping to talk to Childermass some about his new project before he got started and perhaps he would get the chance at the pub. It was always nice to have someone to talk to, and being able to discuss his article now instead of having to wait until Monday was rather exciting. 

Childermass remained silent on the walk, hanging towards the back of the group like a shadow in the night. It suited him. Though, Segundus thought to himself, he could have also been walking at the back to put as much distance as possible between himself and Lascelles, who was leading the group and talking loudly with Drawlight. Segundus tried to hang back a little, maybe begin to ask Childermass a question, but by the time he’d gathered his thoughts they had arrived at the bar. Still like a shadow Childermass had nearly disappeared as he stuck to the dark perimeter of the room, forgoing the small line forming for drinks. 

John was a little disappointed, but he found a seat with Mr. Honeyfoot who was always able to cheer him up with a story. They fell into another one of their easy conversations, sipping their drinks and snacking on something Emma had ordered and abandoned on their table to show Arabella something on her phone. 

A while after they had been there, Honeyfoot had to step outside to take a phone call, and Segundus found himself momentarily alone at the little bar table. He glanced around, but everyone else from his office seemed rather busy with someone else. He couldn’t see Childermass anywhere. His heart sunk a little when he realized he probably wouldn’t get the change to talk to him about his new project until Monday after all. He supposed he could always text him over the weekend, or email, but he didn’t want to bother him. They had a little work conference coming up soon and Childermass was no doubt dreadfully busy with his own preparations, not to mention Norrell’s. 

“Hello,” a soft, drawling voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned. A man stood beside him, hand on the back of Arabella’s abandoned chair across from John’s own. He looked like he had just stepped out of a catalogue from decades past; his clothes were old fashioned, but immaculate and clearly expensive. He had the most enormous eyebrows that John had ever seen. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were sitting all alone,” the man said. His smile was a bit unnerving. 

Segundus frowned a bit. “My friends just stepped away for a moment,” he mumbled, looking around for them again. The bar was getting crowded. 

“Mind if I sit here?” the man asked, voice sticky sweet. John didn’t want to say yes, not really, but there wasn’t much room anywhere else and he didn’t want to be rude. He nodded once, looked away, and sipped at his drink that he hadn’t really wanted in the first place. If Emma and Arabella came back, the man would probably leave, if he were polite. And if he wasn’t, Emma would have no problem telling him to go away. 

“Can I buy you another drink?” the man asked silkily, hand reaching for John’s glass. 

Segundus pulled it a little closer to himself. “No, thank you,” he said as nicely as he could. He didn’t want to be rude, but he was feeling very uncomfortable. Mr. Honeyfoot had once assured him that John was the least likely to be rude of anyone he had ever met, but Segundus still worried. Perhaps the man was just trying to be nice, perhaps he felt bad for needing to sit at their table, perhaps he should give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Come on, beautiful,” the man tried again. Or perhaps not. 

“I said no, thank you,” Segundus repeated, clutching his glass with both hands. He was starting to get nervous. “I’ve had enough for tonight,” he said, and he wished he hadn’t. 

The man’s smile grew, but it didn’t look any more pleasant. It definitely didn’t make Segundus feel any better. John glanced around the room for his friends again. He could see Mr. Honeyfoot through the window outside, still on his phone. Emma and Arabella had just disappeared into the bathrooms before he managed to catch their eyes. 

“Want to come home with me, gorgeous?” the man curled one hand around Segundus’s wrist. It felt possessive. It felt uncomfortable. It felt wrong. 

“N-no,” Segundus stuttered out, eyes darting around the room again, needing someone, needing help. He didn’t want to make a scene. He didn’t know how to handle situations like this. He couldn’t see Jonathan anywhere. Christopher was too busy taking a photo of his extremely fancy drink. And Lascelles…

Segundus made eye contact. Lascelles looked away. 

“I think you want to,” the man drawled, and his grip tightened when Segundus tried to pull away. It was starting to hurt. John felt himself begin to panic, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced around one more time, desperately, and his eyes met the eyes of John Childermass all the way across the room, but watching him with a small frown on his face. Segundus tried to put all he couldn’t express with words into his one glance, a plea for help, and Childermass crossed the room faster than John thought possible. In an instant, Childermass was beside him, so close that he could feel his coat brush against the back of his shoulder. 

“Everything alright?” he asked softly, but his tone left no room for argument. John could feel the warmth coming off of him. Segundus glanced up, and as soon as Childermass seemed to get whatever answer he was looking for on Segundus’s face, he turned his eyes to the man with the eyebrows, a fearsome glare on his face that would have made greater men wince. 

The man let go of Segundus’s wrist like he had been burned, and John felt the circulation coming back into his hand. Childermass touched his wrist gently and Segundus didn’t think he’d ever felt so protected before. This was the first time Childermass had touched him since he shook his hand on his first day at the magazine. 

“Oh,” the man said nastily. “Boyfriend.” 

Segundus felt Childermass’s fingers twitch on his wrist. Before he could pull away, Segundus flipped his hand, catching Childermass’s fingers between his own. Childermass hesitated a breath of a moment before curling his fingers into Segundus’s grasp and John thanked whoever was listening that he was playing along with this. 

“Yes,” Segundus said. “So please leave us alone.” His voice was shaky, but he found it easier to defend himself with Childermass beside him.

The man glanced between them, a frown on his face. “He shouldn’t leave someone as pretty as you all alone,” he tried. 

Childermass stepped closer, and Segundus felt relief wash over him. “Or maybe,” he began, tone dark and quiet and deadly and making Segundus shiver, “you should stop bothering people when they’ve said no.” 

The man glared at them both, muttering something to himself that Segundus couldn’t quite catch but was sure he probably didn’t want to hear, and stalked off. When he was finally gone, Childermass took a step back, and Segundus felt strangely empty without him. 

“Are you alright?” Childermass asked carefully, sitting in the seat beside him. 

“Oh,” Segundus began. “Yes. Thank you. I...thank you. I needed rescuing,” he felt his cheeks going pink and looked down. “I’m sorry that I…” his eyes fell upon their hands, still intertwined. “I didn’t know what else to do. I panicked.” 

“That’s ok,” Childermass replied, gaze still steadily on Segundus. “I don’t mind.” 

Segundus started to smile, but a sudden thought crossed his mind and he hastily dropped Childermass’s hand as he started a new round of apologies, cheeks warming in the dim lights of the pub. Childermass left his hand on the table for a moment, then pulled it back to himself. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think- your girlfriend! I shouldn’t have said that to him, I just panicked, I-” 

“Girlfriend?” Childermass frowned. 

John panicked. Had he ever even stopped? “Or...fiance? Wife? I never noticed you wearing a ring...Sorry. I shouldn’t assume- you know what they say,” he wished he could stop talking, but his mouth wouldn’t listen, no doubt digging himself a deeper hole with Childermass and his girlfriend/wife/fiance who was sure to be angry with Segundus for this even though they’d never met before, and now Childermass probably wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore, and all he’d wanted was to discuss his next article, and now everything was ruined, and- “Hannah, right?” Segundus tried to stop his racing thoughts. “Sorry. I. Um…”

“Ah…” there was an amused quirk to Childermass’s lips, which was not at all what John was expecting. “Hannah won’t mind,” was all he said, the curious look still on his face that just made Segundus want to ask questions and never speak again all at once. Cheeks still burning, he reasoned with himself that perhaps Hannah was just incredibly thoughtful and understanding, which just made Segundus frustrated with himself for ruining a potential friendship with someone so wonderful. Or maybe they had an open relationship, but thinking about Childermass in that way just made him blush all the more, it wasn’t even something he had thought he could consider before. Or maybe, and his mind unhelpfully suggested that this was the least likely scenario, Hannah was just a roommate or a friend or even a family member, and so no one could be angry with him for this, except Childermass himself, which was still horrible. But he didn’t seem angry... And he shouldn’t have assumed that Childermass wasn’t straight, or even if he wasn’t straight he shouldn’t have assumed that he was single, or that Segundus would even be the type of man he’d be interested in, and-

He was getting way ahead of himself. And likely worrying about something that needn’t be worried about so much. It wasn’t as if he tried to ask him out or anything, it was just a brief moment of pretending to get a creep to go away. Reasonably, no one should be faulted for that. But Segundus was often worried. He would find a way to repay and thank Childermass for the rescue and they would move on from it. It was as simple as that, no matter what the anxiety in his head was telling him. 

“Oh,” was all that John said, finally, in reply. He still wasn’t sure why Childermass seemed to find the business with Hannah funny, but there were a lot of things about Childermass that Segundus didn’t know and he had resigned himself to that fact long ago. 

“Can I walk you home?” Childermass asked suddenly. “If you’re done here. I think that creep might come back if I go, and most of the office seems to be getting ready to head out. Lascelles won’t be any help,” he frowned in Henry’s direction, where the man was ignoring Drawlight to stare at his phone. 

Segundus agreed, heart fluttering in his chest. He hadn’t really felt like this before, or at least for a long time. He tried to tamp down the feelings and hoped he could blame the flush in his cheeks on his one drink, though he definitely hadn’t had enough alcohol for that. He saw Emma on their way out, safely with Mr. Honeyfoot, and warned her about the man with the eyebrows. Emma thanked him, and when Segundus mentioned that Childermass was walking him home, she gave the pair of them a funny smile, like she knew something that they didn’t. He didn’t question it, and perhaps he should have, but Mr. Honeyfoot distracted him by promising to drive Emma home when she finished her snack, and Jonathan and Arabella had just left, and so with his friends safe and the hopes of finally discussing his article with Mr. Childermass on his mind, he forgot her knowing expression. 

When Segundus was safely home, and unable to sleep, he started working on his next article, full of ideas from his conversation about it with Childermass on their walk. His weekend passed uneventfully; he was just happy to be writing. And then Monday came. 

He got to the office relatively early. Childermass was hidden away in his office as usual. Jonathan was at the conference hotel making final arrangements for their meetings that weekend. Emma and Arabella came in together a little later, smiling at him over their coffee cups. Something was going on, and he wasn’t sure what. Maybe he’d forgotten someone’s birthday?

“Oh, John! You’re here!” Mr. Honeyfoot came bustling over to him the moment he stepped into the office. Segundus looked up, still confused about what was going on. “I wish you had told me about Friday, you and Mr. Childermass. I know he likes to keep things private, but I do hope you know that you can tell me anything,” he said earnestly. 

“Oh,” Segundus replied, he wasn’t sure how Honeyfoot had found out about Childermass rescuing him or why it was such a big deal. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’ve been writing all weekend,” he smiled sheepishly. “Did I need to report it?” He wasn’t sure if it counted as something HR needed to keep on record, since it was off of office property, but Segundus supposed it had technically been a work event…

Honeyfoot chuckled. “It’s not required, but I suppose it’s good to know. Jonathan made the rules very lenient when he and Arabella started seeing each other. I just meant, telling me as a friend.”

Segundus frowned. “What?” he has lost track of the conversation somewhere, surely. 

“I won’t say another word if you two are still keeping things quiet!” Honeyfoot rushed to assure him. “I haven’t talked to Childermass yet, I don’t know if he’s even out to the rest of the office, but- oh, well, I suppose just about everyone knows now? What am I saying, I’m all flustered this morning! I’m just so happy for you! For you both!” 

John was baffled. He was happy that Childermass had scared off the eyebrow man too, but Mr. Honeyfoot looked almost as if he were about to burst into happy tears with the way he was beaming. 

"But don’t you worry, John, I’ve got the hotel rooms all settled now,” Honeyfoot winked at him. That was...also confusing. 

“The hotel rooms?” Segundus asked, trying to figure out what he was missing in this conversation. 

“I saw the two of you holding hands, and he went home with you, that’s what you told me and Emma, so I thought you’d be wanting to share a room. It was hard to change so last minute, what with the conference being so big and all, but it’s easier to delete a room than to add one, they had a waitlist after all, and Jonathan is over there charming the staff and getting it all ready.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his ringing phone. “Speak of the devil, I’d better answer him. But really, John, I’m so very happy for you both! We all are! Congratulations!”

Oh. Honeyfoot thought...Honeyfoot had seen...and then...oh.  _ Oh _ .

“Wait- Mr. Honeyfoot-” Segundus called after him, but he was already walking away, talking excitedly into his phone. 

The whole office thought that he was dating Childermass. That explained the smiling and the pointed looks. Oh, they would be so disappointed to find out that it was all a big misunderstanding. He’d have to set this straight at once. And he should probably apologize to Childermass about it. 

But the conference! They no longer had their own rooms! Mr. Honeyfoot would feel so horribly about his mistake, he’d probably even give up his own room and forgo the whole trip so that Segundus could have the room. And he’d been so excited to go with his wife. John couldn’t do that to his friend. 

Maybe they could wait a week before telling everyone that they weren’t together. Or maybe they could explain now and say that they were alright sharing the room as friends. If...if Childermass still wanted to be his friend after this fiasco. If Childermass was even ok sharing a room with him. 

He’d have to talk to him. And soon. Segundus glanced up at the man in question’s closed door. It was the first time he wasn’t looking forward to a conversation with Childermass. 


	2. Chapter 2

John Childermass had temporarily blocked Jonathan Strange’s number on his phone after the fifth consecutive text all in emojis had come through on Saturday morning. Strange loved to text with emojis. Childermass hated it. And that morning, Strange’s texts were incomprehensible. After a series of winking faces, a few confetti blasts, and even more winking faces, he gave up and just blocked his number. Childermass had no idea what he was on about, and this definitely wasn’t the first time that this had happened. If Strange was high again after drinking some nonsense concoction at the bar (as he was occasionally prone to do), well, that was Arabella’s problem now. It was the weekend, and he had plenty of other things to deal with, especially with the conference coming up in less than a week now. 

If an urgent work matter popped up, Strange would also contact Norrell and, if it was actually important, Norrell had no hesitations calling Childermass in at any hour of the day or night. If it was something Strange just needed himself from Childermass in particular, then he’d just have Arabella text him. They’d all dealt with this before. His weekend was very productive with his phone not going off with some nonsense text every five minutes. 

But when he finally opened Strange’s texts on Monday morning after unlocking the office (47 of them, to be exact, the bastard), he saw that he probably shouldn’t have been ignoring them or assuming that they were nonsense. 

The winks had been joined by eggplants. And various other emojis meant to symbolize other unmentionable things. 

A pineapple, followed by a ‘sry that was meant 4 Bell’ began the no-longer-as-inebriated texting, now joined by attempted words. 

‘Get sm childermss!’

‘V hap 4 u’

‘Tbh u both needed it’

‘Esp segnds’

‘Segduns’

‘Segundus’

‘Ther we go’

‘I mean wow’

‘Congrats bro’

‘Omg’

Childermass’s grip on his phone tightened as he parsed through the typos and emojis. The way Strange texted physically pained him on a good day, and this was no longer a good day. 

‘Hey im sober now sry but i’m really happy 4 you we both are congratulations my friend!!’

‘I’m so sorry about Jonathan. Congratulations!’ was a text he had somehow missed from Arabella. His grasp on his phone was so tight that he nearly shattered the screen. 

This was not what he wanted to deal with this morning. He didn’t have time for this. He started the coffee pot with a little more force than necessary and tried to reason through what had happened to see where he’d need to go back to fix it. 

Strange had...seen him with Segundus at the pub, he supposed. Though sitting with a coworker wouldn’t warrant such rumors. Nor should protecting said coworker from a creep, but...Segundus had held his hand, and, selfishly, Childermass had kept a hold of it for a while, and...Strange must have seen that and the pair of them leaving together and put two and two together only to end up with eggplants and the wrong conclusions. 

He needed to contain this before Segundus arrived. Luckily he had about an hour, as Segundus’s schedule was as reliable as a clock. And then the thought that Segundus had also been on the receiving end of Strange’s drunken and nonsensical texts crossed his mind. And that triggered a whole new round of panic. He’d need to get this figured out and under control as quickly as possible.

Strange waltzed into the office about fifteen minutes into Childermass’s slight panicking, and made a beeline to John’s doorway with a somewhat maniacal grin on his face. 

“Congratulations!” he sing-songed as he walked over and Childermass just barely resisted the urge to snap at him to shut up.

“Listen. I don’t know why you’re on about this but you’ve got the wrong idea,” John began, voice rough. “And if you’ve been bothering him about this all weekend too, I-”

“No, no,” Strange laughed. “Just you. Figured you’d probably tired him out quite a bit,” Strange winked at him and Childermass felt his eye twitch. 

“That isn’t- we’re not-  _ God,  _ Strange, what is wrong with you?!” Childermass snapped. 

“ _ Oh, _ ” Strange smiled that annoying smile again. “Not the arrangement I’d expected, but good for you! Good for him, too. You don’t have to hide it anymore, Childermass! Believe you me, of all people, inter-office relationships are smiled upon here! I wish I had seen you two at the bar, I heard it was quite cute.”

There were many parts of Strange’s statements Childermass wanted to pick apart. But the last bit set off more alarm bells in his head than the rest. “...you didn’t see? So who told you?” A glance at the clock. Less than half an hour to deal with this, and more people were being added to the equation.

“Well, Emma and Honeyfoot saw you two,” Strange explained. 

“And?”

“And Emma told Arabella, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Childermass gritted out. This was getting wildly out of control. 

“And Bell told me, of course, and we were going to wait til today to congratulate you two together, but I just couldn’t help myself.”

“And how, pray tell, are eggplant emojis a congratulatory text?” Childermass growled as he mentally counted the numbers the rumor had reached. Emma and Arabella should arrive soon, he’d deal with them next. Honeyfoot would be the most difficult.

“Oh, Childermass, we all knew you needed to get some.” His somewhat patronizing tone made John’s fists clench. “And Segundus really did too, he’s always so wound up. It just works out great for all of us that you’ve got each other for that now!” Strange winked at him again.

Childermass put his head in his hands. It was too early for this. He hadn’t even had any coffee yet. This was becoming way too much and he was getting a headache. And he had a feeling he’d just scratched the surface of how much damage control he would have to do. “And who else knows?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer, but needing to hear it all the same.

“Hmm...let’s see…” Strange pondered a moment, which didn’t make John feel any better. “Well, you and Segundus, of course,” Childermass flinched. Segundus had no idea, if no one had been bothering him about it over the weekend, but he was sure to arrive at the office very soon, and- “And me and Bell and Emma,” Strange rattled off, ticking his fingers as he went. “Honeyfoot. Oh, Drawlight surely knows by now, you know how much he loves gossip, so probably Lascelles too. And Norrell, of course. Maybe the interns? They’ll figure it out. I think they had a betting pool at one point. So...I guess the whole office?” he said casually.

“Norrell?” Childermass’s head shot up. This was the worst possible outcome, this was- “You told Norrell?”

“I figured you would have mentioned it to him at least, but he was so shocked when I told him. Had a bit of a panic, thought he’d be losing you, the daft fool, you know how he is,” Strange said flippantly, waving a hand. “But I convinced him that it would make you happy and want to stay with us even longer, both of you, so he approves wholeheartedly. No need to thank me!” Childermass most certainly did not want to thank him. He also didn’t mention that he’d been at the magazine years longer than Strange. Now was not the time for that argument. “Really, Childermass, you should trust me by now. Anyway, he saves on hotel costs now so you know that pleases him greatly at the very least.” Strange was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“What?” Childermass asked weakly, overwhelmed by how much nonsense had escalated from one tiny thing. He had dealt with so many things for Norrell over the years, minor and major fiascoes, from spilled coffee to competing magazines playing dirty, and this was the one that was finally going to break him. 

“You don’t have to pretend to stay in separate rooms, Childermass, we all know you’re sleeping together. Though not in the way we expected, apparently,” he winked again, and John was heavily considering violence. “Or maybe you switch. That sounds fun. Anyway, speaking of the hotel, I have to go pick up the keys and packets for the weekend and make sure all the meals are paid for. Congrats again!” Strange clapped him on the shoulder before rushing out. 

“Strange, wait-” Childermass called, but it was too late. Strange would be no help anyway. He needed to get this contained, and now.

He called the hotel directly, seeing as that seemed to be the most urgent matter now. If he could get the rooms back then he could move on to dispelling the rumors running around the office. Segundus would have arrived by then, and Childermass had wanted to clear things up before having to face him directly, but it seemed that wasn’t in the cards. As skilled and capable as Childermass was, the rare times that something got out of his hands frustrated him to no end, especially if it had to do with him directly. 

He shut his door as the phone rang so that no one else could bother him. The hotel receptionist was apologetic but insisted that changing the rooms back was impossible; they had quite a waitlist for the conference and would not get in between lover’s quarrels. No amount of threats or grumbled words seemed to affect their steely yet cheery disposition and Childermass was forced to hang up the phone, unsuccessful. 

He spent the next hour or so hiding away in his office (cowardly, he knew, especially when he saw Honeyfoot beaming his congratulations at a bewildered Segundus) and trying to hack into the hotel’s reservation list. He was able to get in, but unable to alter anything. Just his luck. 

Between Strange’s meddling and Honeyfoot’s bumbling glee over a simple misunderstanding, they had lost their separate hotel rooms. And it all completely and utterly ruined everything, because Childermass had been secretly pining away after Segundus for years now. 

Segundus was...cute. And nice. And sweet. And a number of words that Childermass had never used to describe anyone before. He was remarkably clever, one of the only people Childermass never grew tired of conversing with, and he had a great sense of humor. And he was beautiful. And the way he blushed...well, those thoughts definitely lingered in John’s mind at the most inopportune moments. 

He’d never wanted to date a coworker before, not with the way everyone in the office was always in each other’s business about it. Childermass didn’t want to complicate their working relationship if he was turned down, and he definitely didn’t want their magazine to lose Segundus as a writer if Childermass inadvertently scared him off; Segundus was the most competent one in the office, besides himself, truly. And so he had been content to continue pining miserably, ignoring his feelings, not to risk anything for the magazine. 

Childermass was used to giving up things that he wanted. Especially for things that he or others needed. He’d always had to work twice as hard to get half as far. His whole life he’d had to beg for scraps and make his own way, never allowing himself to rely on anyone else, only taking care of himself whenever he found spare moments when he wasn’t taking care of others and their needs and wants. He often didn’t have time for himself. He often had to settle for what life dealt him. But he was used to it, even if it hurt. 

He was used to being second best, to being pushed to the side, to being forgotten about. It sometimes made his job easier, being semi-anonymous. But at what cost? He always had to watch as others took what he wanted before he even had his chance. He always had people like Lascelles looking down on him no matter how many times he’d proved his intelligence, his skills, his capability. Norrell had never promoted him even though by this point he nearly ran the company. Always watching others have what he could not. Always seeing a glimpse of things he couldn’t have, not really. And...he wanted. He wanted Segundus. But he’d rather keep that locked away inside himself than see it destroyed, because surely this debacle would ruin whatever meager chances he’d had to begin with.

A tiny thought wiggled its way through the self-inflicted gloom in his brain, a small bit of hope that he had consistently tried and failed to squash over the years for various things. Segundus had been looking at his hands. Enough so, that Segundus had noticed whether or not he wore a wedding ring. Maybe he…

No. It was best not to dwell on that. Segundus had probably just been observant, as clever and smart as he is. Childermass always noticed plenty of things like that without them having a deeper meaning. 

John managed to avoid most of the office until his lunch break, completely ignoring questions about his love life (which only reminded him of his lack thereof), glaring when Lascelles asked who made the first move (his condescending tone was more than Childermass was willing to deal with at the moment), and threatening to disable the WiFi router when Drawlight suggested that they share their love story on the company’s social media pages because all of the posts about Jonathan and Arabella had brought in so many views. The fear of losing their precious internet kept them quiet for a bit. He could see (from his desk, a safe distance away and yet close enough to be a daily source of torture) that Segundus’s shoulders remained tense the entire morning. And he knew the more that either of them denied it, the more the office would be convinced that he was true. He thought Segundus had figured that out as well, seeing him send Emma and Arabella away without enough time to answer any questions they may have had. Childermass hated that Segundus was inconvenienced so by this whole ridiculous thing, and it just made him all the more frustrated that he hadn’t been able to fix the hotel rooms. That could have been a peace offering, a show of trust, a semblance of proof that Childermass could fix this debacle. 

As most of the office was heading to lunch, he looked up as he heard a knock on his door. Segundus. Best to get this over with. He nodded at him through the windows to come in. A chorus of ‘ooooohs’ from Emma and Arabella and the intern followed and Segundus just shook his head at them, a little pink and exasperated. Childermass felt bad that this had gone on all morning, but he put most of the blame on his ridiculous coworkers. It wasn’t as if they were schoolchildren with a silly crush, they were all adults here, and yet they insisted on gossiping about every little thing. And while, yes, Childermass would admit that even he used gossip as a tool to get more information (usually just on the listening side for him), it wasn’t the same when it was about our coworkers’ romantic lives. Especially when it was about your own. 

Segundus shut the door behind him and John heard the remainder of the office leave. They were finally alone. He waited for Segundus to speak, as the man in question had his mouth open in hesitation and his cheeks were rapidly darkening.

“Childermass, I...I don’t know if you know, but...well I rather think you would know by now,” Segundus sighed, wringing his hands nervously. Even when he was upset he was cute and Childermass hated that it made him fall even harder for him. He shouldn’t be having thoughts like that at times like this. “Oh. I’m sorry. I’ll just come right out and say it, a few people in the office think that we, I mean to say, you and I, um-”

“The office thinks that we are romantically involved,” Childermass mumbled, taking pity on him and his ramblings. 

“Y-yes,” Segundus glanced at him. “So you’ve heard. Ah.” He began to fidget with his sleeve cuffs, worn but well taken care of. (See? His brain pointed out. You can notice plenty of little things without it meaning you have a crush. Or can you? Another part of his brain whispered)

John rubbed at his forehead with one hand. “The  _ entire  _ office, Mr. Segundus. All of them. Everyone. Everyone thinks so,” he explained. Best to get it out quickly so they could figure out how to deal with this. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve stopped it from spreading earlier. I tried, but no one will listen to me, and the more I deny it the more they think I’m keeping secrets,” he shook his head again. “I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand at the bar, I should have just dealt with him myself, it was foolish of me, and-” 

“It’s not your fault,” Childermass interrupted with a sigh. Of course Segundus would blame himself for this entire thing, saint that he is. “None of it is. You needed help, I helped. Simple as that. The office is just full of ridiculous people and they often jump to silly conclusions.”

“Ah,” was all Segundus said again. Childermass had meant for his words to be reassuring but apparently they had not had the desired effect. Segundus was still fidgeting with his sleeves, but now he was avoiding eye contact. His cheeks were still pink. Maybe Childermass’s tone had been a bit too harsh, he’d been relatively angry all morning after all. John wanted to comfort him but he was at a loss as to what to do now. Segundus almost seemed upset? Maybe? About the office jumping to conclusions. And the tiny piece of Childermass’s brain that continued to hope, no matter the consequences, no matter how many times he tried to squash it away, lit up in his mind. No. It was foolish. Segundus was surely just embarrassed by this whole ordeal. His blush meant nothing, he was often pink when they talked. 

“I’ve...well, I’ve tried to tell Mr. Honeyfoot, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought we’d just been keeping things private. And the longer this goes on...He’s just so happy for us, it pains me to crush his hopes, but he’s mistaken. I don’t know how else to explain it to him,” Segundus sounded exhausted. Something in his eyes was pleading. Childermass ignored the small ache in his chest about how obvious a mistake it was to believe the two of them to be together.

“Strange wouldn’t believe me either,” Childermass grumbled. He didn’t mention the texts, he thought that might push Segundus too far. “He told Norrell. And Norrell approves. So it’s really the entire office we need to convince otherwise.”

“Oh,” Segundus gasped. “Oh dear…”

“And,” John continued, finding that ranting to Segundus about their common problem was making him feel a bit better about it, even though his heart still ached a bit. He didn’t often have someone to commiserate with. “You’ve been told about their helpful meddling with the hotel rooms, I assume?” Segundus nodded. If his cheeks were any redder, Childermass did not allow himself to take note of it. Segundus looked as if he wanted to say something, but John continued, wanting to prove that he had done all he could to try to fix this. “The hotel website is a nightmare. I’ve done everything from calling the very unhelpful receptionist to hacking into their reservation database. I’ve had no luck. With the conference as busy as it is, their waitlist is locked in. We’ve only got the one room.”

“Ah. Yes. About that. I’m worried that if we cause too much of a fuss, that Mr. Honeyfoot will be upset and insist on giving one of us his room. You know how much he wants to make everyone happy. And he’s been so looking forward to this. But maybe, if you don’t mind, that is, we could share the room? As friends?” Segundus looked at him so hopefully that Childermass would have promised him the moon and the stars and any number of impossible things. He knew Segundus wasn’t only worried about the room and Mr. Honeyfoot, he was worried about their own friendship as well. Maybe Childermass shouldn’t have assumed that this would ruin everything. They both clearly still wanted to be friends. Segundus was just so caring, and as much as Childermass didn’t think he deserved to be the target of that care, he wanted it.

“I would be happy to share as friends,” Childermass admitted, though it probably still wasn’t the best plan for his pining heart. “I suppose no one would know that we were using both beds.”

“Oh, I meant. Um. We could- ah. Yes. That’s probably a better idea,” Segundus stumbled through.

And, oh, Childermass had made a mess of things this time, surely. “I...I think Mr. Honeyfoot would still be upset over his mistake and insist on giving up his room, no matter how much we assure him that it is fine,” John tried to dig his way out of the hole he’d put himself in. “It’s just a week, and we don’t have to actually do anything. If you don’t mind. Pretending to date me, that is.”

“No, that’s fine,” Segundus said, much too fast. He had probably made him uncomfortable. Damn. Segundus was nearly squeaking as he continued. “That’s fine, that’s easier, we can just go with it for a week, yes, and...and pretend to break up after the conference?” he finished with a nervous laugh.

Childermass knew that none of this would be easier on himself, but his traitorous heart begged for this one week of almost-happiness, even though he knew it was fake.

“I’m sure they’ll all be quite upset, but we can say it was amicable and mutual and that we’re still friends and...everything will go back to normal?” Segundus seemed to be trying to reassure himself more so than John. And Childermass was getting nearly everything he wanted, so why did his heart feel like it was sinking?

“They’ll...they’ll have questions, you know. Between Christopher and Emma and Arabella, we’ll never be able to keep ignoring them,” Segundus looked as if he were up to something. 

“Right…?”

“Maybe…” Segundus paused and glanced at him again. “Maybe we should, I don’t know, get our story straight? To make sure our answers are the same next time they won’t leave us alone.” And there was that hopeful look again. Someday, Childermass hoped he would figure it out. 

“If you aren’t busy after work, you could come to my place and we could talk about it,” Childermass found himself offering. “I’ll order dinner.”

“Oh, yes. That’s...yes. Perfect.” Segundus smiled at him. Childermass was always weak for that smile. 

Childermass was weak for quite a few things about Segundus, he knew. And he was self-sabotaging now. A few days of pretending to date the man he’d been in love with for years. It was a cruel thing to do to his own heart, but it was more than he’d ever thought he’d get. 


	3. Chapter 3

The talk with Childermass had gone...remarkably well. Much better than Segundus had been expecting. He wished he could stop letting his anxiety get the better of him, especially when it came to things like friendship. And now, against all odds, it seemed that from one misunderstanding, perhaps he’d be able to become closer friends with Childermass. Surely spending the weekend together would help him get to know his mysterious coworker a little better. John was also looking forward to seeing Childermass’s flat; he always got a better understanding of someone after seeing their home: the things they enjoyed, the things they loved, what was important to them. 

He still felt a little bad about the reasons why. It wasn’t as if Childermass would have invited him over under any other circumstances. And though Segundus heavily doubted that it could ever be anything more, he so desperately wished for Childermass to be his friend. And maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to stop blushing whenever they talked together. Although, for the next week, he had a very nice excuse for his easy blushes. 

Fiddling with some of the trinkets on his desk, his fingers traced the edge of a little Pride flag that Emma had gotten him at the Parade the year before. He smiled a moment at the happy memory, and then frowned when another thought crossed his mind. He still wasn’t sure if Childermass was into men. And he’d hate to make him go through with this if he were straight, the office would be pestering him about boyfriends until the end of time. Plus he would feel very bad about forcing him to do anything that made him uncomfortable, or if he had accidentally outed him to the office before he was ready, or for even wishing to hold his hand some more, or…

Segundus sighed. He just didn’t know. But...Childermass had agreed. It had been his suggestion to go through with it, no matter how frustrated about it he had seemed. And it was all to keep Mr. Honeyfoot and the rest of the office happy. It was only a week. And it wouldn’t even be real. 

That last thought made him much sadder than he expected. He frowned to himself. Best not to dwell in the sadness of something he can’t have, of something he had no control over. He was woefully single but for the next week he’d have a taste of what a relationship with Childermass would be like, even if it was all fake. Plus, he thought, it would be a lot easier to break up and move on if Childermass really was straight or if he had a secret thing for Hannah. John was still worried about her, but perhaps he could even help them get together if that was what was holding Childermass back. He was sad about it, yes, but with his newfound determination to help Childermass and become his friend, he spent the rest of the day pleasantly distracted. 

When it came time to leave (to go to Childermass’s flat!) John found a flurry of nervous excitement rushing through his veins as if it were a real first date. Most of the office had already emptied out when, with a bit of noted hesitation, Childermass approached his desk.

“Ready?” he asked, and there was something unreadable in his gaze.

“Oh. Yes,” Segundus smiled nervously as he gathered up his bag and stood to follow Childermass out of the office. 

“John?” Arabella called out as they walked by her desk, and they both stopped. “Aren’t you going to hold his hand?”

It was a simple question, innocent enough, but Segundus found himself blushing furiously. He felt Childermass’s eyes on him, and he glanced up at him for just a moment before taking his hand like he had that night at the bar. Any hesitations on their part for now could hopefully be read as being nervous about public displays of affection in a new relationship, and John saw that was what Arabella believed as she smiled sweetly at them and said she’d see them tomorrow. Segundus knew they’d have to get better at it, though, especially by the weekend. 

Maybe they could practice, he mused to himself as they stepped outside into the cool evening air. And practice they might need, because their grip felt a little odd. John glanced up again and Childermass was staring determinedly forward. Segundus bit his lip, considering, then loosened their grip and shifted his fingers so that Childermass’s thumb was now on the outside. Their hands slid together perfectly, fitting together like missing puzzle pieces. Childermass’s thumb stroked gently over his knuckle in an almost subconscious movement. It felt so perfect. John couldn’t help but let out a soft “oh,” at the sensation. 

Maybe he was in a little over his head. 

They kept walking, and Segundus noticed with a secret smile that Childermass wasn’t letting go of his hand, and every once in a while his thumb would repeat that soft little movement. Maybe he was just practicing, or trying to get used to it, but if he wasn’t going to let go then neither was John. 

“Is…” Childermass cleared his throat. “Is Indian alright for dinner? There’s a good place just a few blocks from me that delivers.”

“Oh. Yes, that’s fine,” Segundus smiled. “Is Hannah going to be there?” he blurted before he could stop himself. He winced, he had surely broken whatever little moment that had been building between them. 

“You’re very worried about her,” Childermass said after a moment. 

“I...I’m sorry. It’s just...are you certain she won’t mind? And...and should we order dinner for her too?” 

Childermass let out a small laugh, and Segundus was still very confused. “No, no, she’ll be there, but she’s probably already eaten dinner by now. That’s very kind of you, though.” There was a small smirk on his face that told John that Childermass knew something that he did not. “If you’re so worried about her, just share a bit of your food and she’ll fall right in love with you.”

“Oh?” Segundus frowned. That was...admittedly odd. Although, he supposed Jonathan was a bit like that too; it was very easy to win him over with baked goods. But maybe Childermass thought he kept asking about Hannah because...Segundus was interested in her? He needed to set that right before another thing got out of hand. “I’m...I’m gay?” Segundus said, words coming out more like a question. He wasn’t exactly closeted, surely Childermass knew, and why would he want Hannah to fall in love with Segundus anyway?

Childermass laughed again, a real, full laugh. John would have liked to hear it again, especially when he wasn’t so confused as to what the reason behind it was. 

“I know, Segundus. I know you are.”

“A-alright. Well. I’m not sure what- I mean. We…” Segundus stumbled over his words, cheeks heating for altogether different reasons than before. “I hope you’re not making fun of me. I’m very confused,” he admitted softly.

Their hands were still together.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” Childermass apologized, catching his breath. “It’s mean of me. But it’s quite funny. You’ll see.” 

“Hmm,” John answered noncommittally. And he remembered what Childermass had said earlier, about the office jumping to silly conclusions. Was it really so silly to think that the two of them could be involved? Was it truly so ridiculous a notion? Apparently so. Sure, it would be easier to end this all in a week if Childermass thought that dating Segundus was a preposterous idea. But it still hurt. 

Was it so wrong to want this? Was it wrong to let things keep going, knowing it’s fake, but deep down wishing that it was all real?

Segundus didn’t know. But, looking down, their hands were still intertwined. And that gave him a small bit of comfort. 

Childermass only released his hand to retrieve his keys as he led John up to his front door. Segundus heard a small noise coming from inside his door. Childermass let out a sigh that was all fond exasperation. He opened the door and the tiniest dog Segundus had ever seen ran out and jumped at Childermass’s leg excitedly. The yorkshire terrier barely reached his knee even on its highest bounces. 

Childermass scooped it up, only needing one hand. “Yes, Hannah, I know I’m a little late,” he said softly as the tiny dog licked him, and Segundus felt his heart melt. 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Hannah. Hannah was…

“Hannah’s your dog?” Segundus asked, voice weak. And all this time he’d been so worried. 

One side of Childermass’s mouth quirked up. “She is, indeed. I told you that you needn’t worry about her.”

John felt like laughing and crying all at once, nearly as overwhelmed as he was earlier that morning. “I feel rather stupid now,” he admitted with a small laugh. He didn’t have to worry about a wife or girlfriend or pining roommate. 

“Don’t,” Childermass said, in that soft and quiet tone again. “You’re anything but.”

Childermass’s dark eyes were so strong, drawing him in, and John felt his cheeks heating up rapidly. He wanted to kiss him. That was no doubt an awful idea. He looked away, breaking the spell, and followed Childermass inside.

He led him down a little entry hallway to a small living room with a comfortable looking couch. He set Hannah down on one of the cushions. “Bathroom’s just through there, if you need it,” he pointed at a door. “And it’ll just take me a moment to order the food. Do you want a drink? Beer? Water? Coffee? I might...I think I might have tea?”

Segundus smiled and sat next to Hannah on the couch. Childermass seemed nearly as nervous as he was. “Water would be lovely, thank you.”

Childermass gave him a nod, hesitated, and disappeared into what John assumed was his kitchen. He glanced around, trying to soak in as much about Childermass he could. A few potted plants, a modest DVD collection on a shelf below his TV, a record player and an impressive stack of vinyls. A few photographs from places Segundus remembered him mentioning Norrell had sent him to for research. A calendar a few days behind and a corkboard with a few mementos pinned to it: Jonathan and Arabella’s wedding invitation, a badge from a science convention half the office went to earlier in the year, a few post-it note reminders, a tiny bisexual flag pin. 

Oh.

So Childermass wasn’t straight. There were no photos or evidence of partners, current or past. He lived alone. 

This was going to be both so much easier and so much harder than John had been anticipating, he realized, as Hannah crawled onto his leg, stretched and yawned, and curled into a tiny ball to go to sleep. This week had the potential to be everything Segundus had been wanting, and without having to worry as much as he had been. But their fake break up...it would only hurt so much more. ‘It’s better to have loved and lost,’ isn’t that how the saying goes? John supposed he would find out if that was true. 

He turned to look around the rest of the room (a doorway presumably leading to Chidlermass’s bedroom causing another blush, a basket of laundry with folded dark clothes, a leather jacket hanging on a hook near the door), and faced back forward only to come face to face with a massive creature staring at him, inches from his face. 

“Oh!” he jumped, startled, and Hannah gave a small sleepy protest from atop his leg. The dog, for surely it had to be a dog, massive and in shades of scruff greys and blacks and looking like something straight out of a myth or a fairytale seen traipsing about the moors, regarded him seriously for a moment before gingerly stepping up onto the couch beside him. Sitting directly next to him, the dog was even taller than Segundus. And it just continued to stare at him with those all-knowing eyes. 

“Ah…” Segundus began, unsure if he should try to pet it or call Childermass for help. Though the dog was huge and its stare was unnerving, it didn’t seem threatening in the slightest. 

“I see you’ve met Brewer,” Childermass said, entering the room. Brewer flopped over to prop his giant head on the couch’s armrest, leaving the only space for Childermass on half of the cushion right next to Segundus. John scooted as close to the other armrest as he could to try to give him enough room to sit. 

“The food’ll be here soon,” Childermass mumbled, and after a moment of hesitation he sat in the small spot Brewer had left for him. Their hips were touching. Just a bit, yes, but Segundus could feel his warmth through all the layers of fabric between them. He was probably blushing again, but at this point Childermass was bound to think it was just his natural coloring. 

“So…” John started, unsure of where to begin.

“So.” Childermass confirmed. “You-” he said at the same time Segundus tried to speak, talking over each other. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Ah. Alright,” John felt very flustered. “Um. Well. I was thinking, with Arabella asking us earlier, um. We should probably figure out what we should do around everyone. What we’re comfortable with,” he said quickly, trying not to let his nerves show. 

“And what are you comfortable with?” he asked quietly in that deep voice and Segundus had to try to repress a shiver. 

“Oh. Um. Just anything is fine, really,” he felt Childermass’s eyes on him but he kept his gaze focused on a very interesting piece of carpet as he tried not to think about all of the things he’d let (and enthusiastically encourage) Childermass do to him. 

Childermass didn’t reply, and when John finally looked up, he leaned in very close and-

Segundus couldn’t breathe, he could count his eyelashes, he could feel his breath, if he leaned mere inches closer he’d be able to taste those lips and-

Childermass pulled back, leaving John blinking in confusion. “‘Anything’ isn’t fine, you’re clearly nervous about me even being close to you.”

“Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean it’s not fine!” Segundus protested. Maybe he’d confessed a bit too much there. 

“...alright,” Childermass conceded, and that unreadable look was back in his eyes, almost like he...no. That couldn’t be it.

“We’ve…” Segundus licked his lips nervously. “We’ve held hands, that’s ok, right? Um. If we were dating...probably should do that more. If we’re walking around or- or something.” 

“Right,” Childermass said. “Could I put my arm around you?”

“Oh,” and for a moment Segundus forgot they were discussing boundaries and thought Childermass was just asking permission to do so right then and there, and was a little disappointed when after stumbling through “oh, yes, that’s. That’d be…” he didn’t do it. When he’d calmed himself enough to get his thoughts in order, he continued. “That would be very convincing I think, yes. Um. Hugs?”

“Sure,” Childermass agreed. “That’s probably enough to convince them all, too. We wouldn’t have to do much more than that.”

“Right,” Segundus said, trying not to be sad about it. He could barely handle thinking about hugs, anything more might kill him on the spot. 

A knock on the door signaled that the food had arrived. Childermass refused to let Segundus pay for any of it.

“What else?” Childermass asked once they had settled back onto the couch with their plates. Brewer had gotten up to investigate the takeaway bags, but Childermass still sat close. 

“Well if...if we were dating,” Segundus kept saying, he knew it was probably weird, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I think we’d use first names.”

“Of course, John,” Childermass said, a corner of his mouth twitching back up, and Segundus blushed again.

“Um. What about...like pet names and things? Darling? Dear?”

“I think…” Childermass paused for a moment, considering. “Well, if you want to. I think a few of them would know something was wrong if I tried. Babe.” 

Segundus tried to hold back a laugh. 

“Honey. Sugar bear. Sweetie pie.” The words sounded ridiculous coming from Childermass and soon they were both laughing. 

“Just call me John,” Segundus laughed. The tension between them had completely evaporated. 

“Until I think of a decent one, maybe,” Childermass promised. John smiled. 

“Well,” he continued. “Everyone knows we met at work, so we don’t need to worry about that detail.”

“Right, yeah. That makes it easy. We’ll say...you asked me out? You seem more the type for romantic gestures. You’re good at speeches. I’d probably...wait ‘til I was absolutely certain.” The way Childermass phrased that made Segundus pause, wanting to pick that apart a little, but he let it be for the time being. 

“After you oh-so-romantically came to my rescue?” John teased. “I don’t know, I think I’d be too nervous to ask you,” he admitted honestly. “I know I like to give the presentations at conferences and things but...this is different. Maybe we just sort of fell into it?”

“That does seem more likely,” Childermass replied. “For us,” he added, and it made John’s heart skip a beat. 

Everything about this...it didn’t feel like Segundus thought planning a fake romantic backstory would feel. It felt real. It felt right. Spending more time with Childermass, how well they got along...as much as John wanted him, he thought at least in the end he’d get a wonderful friendship out of this.

“If we...if we do this again maybe another night this week, it’d be. Well. It’d be easier to tell people about our date night and keep things straight if we actually are doing it,” Segundus explained, feeling rather brave. 

“Right,” Childermass agreed readily. “And we should ride together to the hotel as well on Thursday.”

“Of course,” Segundus nodded.

They fell into a bit of silence, glancing at each other with small smiles. It was either time for Segundus to leave, or time for him to be brave again. 

He took a breath. He would be brave. 

“Childermass-  _ John.  _ Do you think...do you think maybe…” Segundus tried, bravery slipping as he tried to ask for what he wanted. 

“Yes?” John said quietly. 

“It’s just...you said I looked very uncomfortable earlier, when you. Um. But, well, that would be a pretty quick giveaway, wouldn’t it? Maybe we should...practice?” he asked hopefully. 

“Practice…?”

“Hugs. Or. Whatever. Just,” Segundus sighed miserably, face burning. Maybe he was making a fool of himself. Was it so strange to ask for a hug?

But then Childermass’s arm was behind him. And, oh, his hand settled against his waist, and-

It was a one-armed hug from the side, but it was still one of the best hugs that John had ever had. 

“Alright?” he heard, gently from right above his ear. 

“Oh. Yes. Very,” and he realized he hadn’t even been hugging him back much more than leaning into the embrace. Tentatively he laid his head on John’s shoulder and let his arms drape around Childermass’s torso as well. “...alright?” he whispered. He was afraid the answer would be no. He was also afraid the answer would be yes.

“...yes,” a reply, just as soft, as John wove their fingers together. Segundus tucked himself in closer and he felt John’s nose nuzzle into his hair lightly. His eyes shut as he tried to breathe. Snuggled up to Childermass on his couch, with Hannah on his lap and Brewer sprawled across the rest of the cushions and Childermass’s leg, Segundus had never felt so content, so domestic, so at home. He’d never felt so loved. 

At some point they turned on a movie. But even if pressed, Segundus would never be able to say what they watched, for he was far too distracted by the way John’s thumb would ever-so-gently stroke against his side, how when either of them shifted it was always to get closer. 

When it came time to go home, standing by the door to say their goodbyes, John gave him a proper hug. And Segundus never wanted to let go. 

They planned another movie night that week. Emma had thought it particularly cute that Segundus didn’t remember the movie they had watched. Jonathan had made some comment about ‘Netflix and Chill-dermass’ and Segundus thought for a moment that he was about to witness a murder right there in the office. And so they had another movie that Segundus couldn’t recall, another night filled with the practice of hand-holding and arms around each other. John had never been happier. He even thought Childermass seemed lighter, he caught him with a very rare soft smile on his face a few times. 

They shared a cab to the hotel, still holding hands and sitting very close together even though no one was around to see. It was a good idea to keep it up, for practice and for the fact that it was harder to be caught. Segundus thought that they’d be utterly convincing. And, yes, maybe he’d admit to himself that he was enjoying the attentions immensely. Maybe they both needed some affection, even if it was actually platonic in the end. 

Childermass checked them in and got their room keys. The panels and meetings weren’t due to start until the next day, so they planned on dropping off their bags and getting dinner with any of their coworkers that had already arrived. 

John unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to freeze a few feet inside the door. Childermass nearly ran into him. 

There was only one bed. 

“Ah,” he said. 

“We could...we could ask for a rollaway bed?” Segundus asked tentatively. 

“Strange would see it on the statements after. He’d have all sorts of questions,” Childermass shook his head. 

“Right. Um…”

“It’s fine,” Childermass said after a moment, and Segundus felt his heart leap, only to then fall again as John finished his sentence. “I’ll sleep on the floor, or in the desk chair. There’s usually an extra blanket or two in the cupboard.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Segundus tried to stop him as he started towards the wardrobe. 

“I’ve slept worse places,” John shrugged. 

“That’s...honestly concerning,” Segundus admitted. “But besides that. You’re being ridiculous. It’s a king sized bed, John, we can just share. We’ve both got important panels tomorrow anyway; we need a good night’s sleep,” he said decisively, knowing full well that if he was sharing a bed with John Childermass there was a very good chance that he wouldn’t get any sleep at all. 

Childermass sighed and seemed to give in. 

Later that night when Segundus was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, he was even more glad that he had packed his nicest pajamas: a soft green set with nice stitching that he’d splurged on a few months back. Brushing his teeth, he was struck with a horrifying thought: What if he snored? Or worse, talked in his sleep? He hadn’t shared a room, let alone a bed, with anyone in decades. He had no idea if he did either of those things. Oh, that would be terribly embarrassing. 

But he supposed there really was nothing he could do about it. He gathered his things and left the bathroom. Childermass stared at him a moment and John could have sworn the man was slightly pinker than when he’d left him. “All yours,” Segundus smiled nervously, nodding once at the bathroom door, and he realized he meant those words both in reference to the door and himself. 

He tucked himself into the bed, hoping he picked the side that Childermass didn’t want. Maybe he should have waited. Or asked. Maybe he should have brought a book so he wasn’t just sitting here awkwardly, waiting to see what he should do. 

But it was too late to swap sides of the bed or grab something to do, the bathroom door was opening and John came out and - oh. 

_ Oh.  _

He was wearing pajama pants. And only the pants. 

They. He. Um. Segundus’s brain was having trouble processing. The pants were loose and slung low on his hips, dark stripes of grey and black. John was sure he’d hyperventilate in the night, blush himself into spontaneous combustion, pass out, something. 

Childermass was- 

He-

Oh dear. 

His hair was no longer tied back, falling softly around his shoulders. One hand came up to rub at the back of his neck before his arms crossed self-consciously over his chest. “Sorry, I...thought we’d have our own beds, and…” he let his sentence trail off, seemingly unsure of what to say next. He looked nervous, but not in the uncomfortable way of having to do something you don’t want to do. More a fear of being judged, of doing the wrong thing, of not knowing what someone else was thinking. 

Segundus should probably say something. He should say something. Reassure him that it’s fine. He opened his mouth, a sentence forming, but only a small noise escaped him. He’d. He’d never seen Childermass in so few clothes. He always had on so many layers and buttons and-

His chest- 

And good lord, his shoulders-

He risked a glance down at his hipbones and very nearly made another horribly embarrassing noise at the sharp angles and the pale skin and the trail of dark hair disappearing below his waistband. He tried to swallow but his breath was caught in his throat. There was an interesting scar halfway between a collarbone and a nipple, and Segundus found himself wanting to map the path between them with his tongue, and where the hell had that thought come from, and he really needed to calm down and get it together and say something and-

“Right,” Childermass said, a little gruffly, making eye contact with Segundus’s shoulder. 

“Right,” John squeaked in reply. 

“I can still sleep in the-” he started, about to point at the terrible little desk chair, and that was enough to snap Segundus back to somewhat-functioning levels. 

“John, just get in the bed,” he said, pulling the covers back. 

Childermass paused. Nodded once. And he did. He turned off the lamp. They said goodnight. 

It was a long time before either of them fell asleep as they lay side by side in silence there in the dark. 


	4. Chapter 4

Childermass was always quick to wake in the mornings, though to even an observant eye he would still look as if he were asleep. It had been a very useful skill of his before he was fortunate enough to find employment with Mr. Norrell. He also had the ability (the uncanny ability, many would claim) to be very nearly unnaturally aware of his surroundings, even with his eyes shut. And this is how he knew that he had woken up with John Segundus cradled in his arms. 

John, though he very much wanted to open them, left his eyes shut and held himself very still as he let his mind wrap around what had happened. Sometime in the night, the two of them had somehow rolled closer together. Sometime in the night, they had become very wrapped up in one another. And somehow, Childermass had slept through that initial contact, warm and comfortable, and continued to sleep with Segundus snuggled up to him. 

John was cradled in his arms and tucked up to his chest, nose just barely brushing against his bare collarbones, hand curled loosely against Childermass’s heart. Oh god. Childermass tried to release a shaky breath as he willed his heart to not beat any faster on the small chance that it would awaken the man in his arms. 

He let another careful moment pass by and then very slowly allowed one eye to peek open, to take in the sight of what was happening. He could mostly just see the top of Segundus’s curly hair, the slim curve of his neck disappearing into his achingly soft (and, frankly, adorable) pajamas, and just the edge of his face, relaxed happily in sleep. The rest of him was hidden under the blanket, but Childermass could feel that he was curled up rather small, legs tucked up between them. He tried very hard not to let out a sigh; John Segundus was too goddamn cute for his own good and this was an entirely new level of torture for Childermass that only some very dark forces could have come up with. 

Waking up with John in his arms was...well, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held anyone. He couldn’t remember it ever feeling like this. He could feel that Segundus was still asleep, his breathing gentle and even against Childermass’s chest and driving him slowly to the point of insanity. And, judging by his gentle, steady heartbeat that Childermass could feel through the fabric of his pajamas, he’d be asleep for some moments more. He let his thumb brush gently, slowly, careful against John’s back before he could think about it too long or stop himself. And perhaps he should have stopped himself, perhaps it was incredibly selfish, but their alarm clock wasn’t set to go off for another half hour or so and for that half hour...he could pretend and nearly convince himself that this was real. He remained very still, save for the very slow movement of his thumb and his breathing that he tried to keep even. It had to be selfish, to take what he could get in these brief moments when Segundus was asleep, but John rarely allowed himself to be selfish, and he assured himself that these little moments would help sustain him after they were gone. Whether or not it hurt later, and he knew that it would no matter how much he convinced himself otherwise, he knew that he would be thinking of this moment for years and years. 

Another pause, another moment of hesitation, and he very, very gently tucked a stray curl back off of his forehead, marveling at the silky softness brushing against his fingertips. John let out a little sigh in his sleep and snuggled in closer, face fully tucked up against Childermass’s chest now. Childermass’s heartbeat had to be a risk at this point. He felt his eyes prick with a very foreign sensation; surely this wasn’t making him cry. He never cried. But he hadn’t wanted something so unobtainable in such a long time. 

Minutes before their alarm woke Segundus up, John had gotten his emotions under control and back behind his careful facade, and very slowly extracted himself from Segundus’s clinging, sleeping form. His heart very nearly broke at the small unhappy sound that John made in his sleep. Surely it was just because he was cold, not because Childermass himself had moved, he tried to tell his heart. He moved back to his side of the bed, but not  _ all  _ the way, a part of him still desperate for Segundus’s touch, and so he let their hands brush together as if they had almost been holding them in their sleep. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep just as the clock went off, just in time to hide that he’d nearly been caught staring at Segundus in his sleep.

He pretended to wake up just as John blinked sleepily to consciousness in front of him, and he very nearly hated himself for the sleepy-soft smile sent in his direction the moment John’s eyes focused on him that he most definitely did not deserve. 

“Morning,” he murmured, voice soft and tired and Childermass wanted to wake up to that every morning. 

“Morning,” he mumbled back.

They remained still for a moment, caught in each other’s gaze, until Segundus slowly pulled his hand away (and it felt like he pulled a part of Childermass with it) to turn off the alarm.

And that was all it took for things to seem like they had gone back to normal, whatever ‘normal’ was between them now. They got dressed and ready for the day, packing their satchels with business cards and copies of the latest issue of ‘The Practical Magician’ and papers for their panels and presentations. When it was time to head down to the hotel’s buffet for breakfast, John shyly took his hand in the elevator. He was very good at this, Childermass noted, even if it looked like he had to settle his nerves with a steady breath every once in a while. Whether he was nervous about acting or for some other reason, Childermass was not sure, and he did not have time to dwell on it as Segundus was very nearly swept away by Emma the moment the elevator doors opened, Childermass being dragged along in their wake. 

“Mr. Honeyfoot is saving us a table!” she said excitedly. “And then, John, you have to come with me to that panel about that new discovery in historical fashion dyes, ok?” she asked Segundus, still excitedly talking as they found their crowded table. “You’re welcome to come as well, Childermass, if you want?” she added politely, but he declined as he had to spend the first time slot (and perhaps the second and third) finishing up Norrell’s powerpoint that either Strange or Childermass himself would end up having to present instead. He thought that he caught a glimpse of disappointment on Segundus’s face, but surely that had been his imagination. 

The rest of their coworkers seemed just as enthused about the conference and paneling lineups as they talked through their schedules and plans and milled about the table. Childermass, unfortunately, couldn’t plan his much in advance since he was on standby for Norrell at all times, but there was one panel that he would do anything to make it to and that was Segundus’s on Saturday. By then he should at least know if Norrell was going to show up or not. 

His train of thought was interrupted by a laugh a few tables over, the man causing the ruckus headed their way. Childermass rolled his eyes. Vinculus. Vinculus was an odd little man who wrote for an odd little weekly mailer advertising a mix of psychology, science, and various mystical elements (ranging from astrology to tarot to crystals depending on the week) used in order to read people and their intentions. Childermass (and Norrell, and a great many other respectable writers) found the truth of the periodicals to be a mix of life-hacks and fake psychic tactics. It was all likely a scam, and, Childermass thought, pretty obviously so, but people seemed to enjoy it for the entertainment value at the very least. 

“Hello, Childermass,” he greeted, swaying annoyingly on his feet, smirking in a way that never meant anything good. 

“Vinculus,” he nodded in greeting, trying to turn back to his coworkers, hoping that Vinculus would go away. It wasn’t that he  _ disliked  _ him, it was more that he didn’t have the energy to deal with him right now. Plus, the way some of his coworkers were looking at Vinculus meant that he would have to deal with that too. Segundus just looked mildly curious, bless him, but it all went downhill from there all the way to Lascelles looking absolutely disgusted at both Vinculus and Childermass himself. John just sighed and picked at his toast. 

But luck, it seemed, was not on his side, as Vinculus began laughing his quiet little unnerving chuckle. 

“What,” Childermass said flatly, a disgruntled expression on his face as he turned back to look at him. Where Vinculus was staring pointedly at his and Segundus’s hands, still together, resting lightly atop of Segundus’s thigh. Shit. He  _ really  _ didn’t want to deal with Vinculus right now.

“Congratulations to the happy couple,” he drawled. “I can tell that you’ve been in love with him for quite some time. Oh,  _ years.”  _ Vinculus was still staring at their hands and it wasn’t clear exactly which one of them he was talking to, but Childermass knew it had to be him and he felt his heart sinking at the words. As infuriatingly fake as Vinculus was, sometimes he managed to hit the nail right on the head. A broken clock manages to be right twice a day, after all. 

John laughed nervously beside him, and Childermass could have hugged him for trying to play it off. Childermass knew that he himself just looked uncomfortable. 

“Kiss him,” Vinculus said suddenly, looking back at Childermass.

“What-” he began.

“It’ll establish better communication, you’d know if you’d read my latest article,” Vinculus explained quickly. “You’re dating, aren’t you? What’s the problem, then? Kiss him,” he said again, nodding in Segundus’s direction. 

“...yes, we- we’re dating,” Segundus said quietly, hand tightening in Childermass’s. He hated that Segundus was being made so uncomfortable. A quick glance around the table in the hopes that someone would come to their rescue proved futile. Emma and Arabella looked way too pleased about the supposed romantic gesture they were about to see, Honeyfoot was politely looking away to give them some privacy, Drawlight was halfway to pulling his phone out but thought better of it at Childermass’s look. 

“What’s the problem, Childermass?” Lascelles echoed, sneering at him. “Too scared? What a coward.”

“Shush, Henry. Kiss him!” Emma encouraged. 

The whole office was watching them. Some of the other tables were turning to see what the commotion was. Vinculus was grinning like a maniac at the attention. 

But when his eyes fell back on Segundus’s face, John was only looking at him. Childermass saw his throat catch. John gave him the tiniest nod. Acquiescence. 

Childermass leaned down and brushed the barest of kisses against his lips. And of course they were soft and warm and perfect,  _ perfect.  _ He’d remember this forever: the kiss that would haunt Childermass’s dreams. Something else that he couldn’t really have. 

He pulled back and-

Was that fear that just flashed in Segundus’s eyes as they fluttered open? He almost looked as if he would cry. And that would haunt Childermass’s nightmares. 

Childermass was about a millisecond away from calling off this entire thing. If this was upsetting John so much...if-

Emma and Arabella’s soft chorus of “aww!” and Vinculus’s gleeful laugh pulled their gaze apart once more. Segundus was blushing more than he thought he'd ever seen him, avoiding everyone's eye contact. 

“Told you so,” Vinculus grinned smugly. “Come to my game panel tomorrow, I’ll sign you up.” 

“Oh! Jonathan and I are doing that one too!” Arabella piped up. “It’s a couple’s game! Really, come with us, it’ll be fun!” 

“Yes!” Vinculus agreed, shoving a pamphlet at them. “The winning pairs get an all expenses paid trip to the Raven King Museum, and you know how impossible it is to get access!” he continued. “I know your Norrell would love to have a team make it there, why not double your chances?” he flapped the pamphlet at them. Childermass hated his coercive tactics. 

He opened his mouth to say no, to tell him to fuck off, to tell the truth about this whole ordeal, but John just nodded weakly and took the pamphlet with a shaking hand. 

Vinculus cackled to himself as he trotted off, and everyone returned to whatever conversations they’d been having before his interruption as if something monumental and potentially terrible and complicated didn’t just happen. He tried very hard to meet Segundus’s eyes, which seemed like they were flicking through a variety of emotions, but John was staring resolutely at his plate, fingers of his unoccupied hand picking at his worn sleeves. Their other hands had never parted. 

Childermass was torn between wanting to wrap him in a brand new sweater and holding him close, and wanting to throw himself out the nearest window and disappear so that Segundus would never have to deal with him again. 

He finally met his eyes as the announcement for the first panels began, and everyone scrambled to get up. Childermass placed a hand on his forearm and stared into his eyes, trying to parse if he was ok. John gave a quick little shake of his head, but the quirk of his lips said that the motion wasn’t a ‘no,’ but a ‘later’. Childermass gave a tiny nod in return that he understood, trying not to let his eyes flicker to Segundus’s lips. And then Segundus was gone, being dragged off to the panel Emma had been thrilled about. John watched everyone file out of the room, feeling a little left out and morose, and pulled out his laptop to finish Norrell’s powerpoints. 

And because it seemed that luck was never on his side when he most needed or wanted it, he didn’t see Segundus for the rest of the day. He managed to sort all of Norrell’s things out (for the time being) transferred the presentations to Strange, harassed the hotel’s Audio/Video team into improving the settings in their panel rooms, and, feeling generous, approved Drawlight’s request for some new digital photo filters. 

And maybe he should have realized the significance that he and Segundus were able to communicate wordlessly (and how that would affect their chances in a couple’s game). But he spent a good portion of his day trying to figure out where exactly this had all gone wrong, or at least where it had gotten more out of hand than when it started. He shouldn’t have suggested this at all, even if it had made Mr. Honeyfoot upset. Even if Segundus had been stressed about it. That was surely more easily fixable than the mess they found themselves in now. He didn’t regret saving John at the bar, he’d never regret that. But the rest of this was weighing heavily on him. And yes, maybe he should have just bit the bullet and asked John out years ago. But it was too late to change the past. Too late to have a real chance with him now. 

He wondered briefly if Segundus would even come back to their room that night or if he and Emma had already gotten his things and moved him into her room. 

But then his phone lit up, pulling him out of his desolate thoughts. A single text from John. He was almost afraid to open it. But things couldn’t possibly get worse, could they? And so he opened the text. 

And…

And Segundus wanted to know if he would mind if they had their dinner in their room instead of with everyone and if Childermass could please let the front desk know, if that was alright with him. 

‘Of course,’ he replied, and. And. He didn’t know what to make of that. So he told the front desk about their meal choices being sent up to their room instead, and he went upstairs to wait.

Maybe Segundus didn’t want out of this yet. Maybe he was trying to do something even more romantic, just to prove themselves further. Or maybe he just wanted to get away from the coworkers who were surely bothering him with questions. Or, maybe, he wanted to tell Childermass to never kiss him again. But it was pointless to question all these things running through his mind when it was Segundus who held all the cards now. 

Their food arrived on a wheeled table just minutes before Segundus did, and Childermass found himself standing awkwardly in wait as John stepped through the door. 

“Hi,” Segundus said, cheeks pink. Probably from the walk.

“Hi,” Childermass echoed, feeling the word almost get stuck in his throat. They sat at their little table. John belatedly felt like perhaps he should have pulled Segundus’s chair out for him, for all this felt almost like a real date. But they were already seated, Childermass in the desk chair he’d originally planned to sleep in and Segundus in the strange little armchair that was a staple in most hotel rooms. Childermass hadn’t had room service in so long, Norrell would never splurge for it. It was...nice. It would be nicer if he had any clue what was going on. 

Segundus picked at his food, looking very deep in thought. John waited patiently, if a little anxiously. 

“Should we…” Segundus began, jumping a little as if his own words startled him. “Should we prepare somehow for that strange little man’s game? What will he have us do?”

Childermass let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. So that was what this was all about. He brought one hand up to rub at his face. “Honestly, even if we knew what the game was, I don’t think there’s any way to truly prepare for Vinculus…” he sighed. This was still an utter mess, but at least he and Segundus were on the same page about it. 

“Oh,” Segundus frowned. Childermass tried not to think about how cute of an expression that was on his face. 

“He’s harmless, really,” Childermass tried to reassure him. “He’s just…” he waved vaguely. It was hard to find words to describe Vinculus. 

“I didn’t mean…” Segundus started, thinking he’d insulted Childermass’s friend. Maybe John had read this wrong after all. “I just…” he tried again. “Arabella said it was a couple’s game. I know Norrell would love for us to get into that museum, but I don’t have any delusions of us winning. I just thought that maybe it might look bad if we failed, and if there was some way to prepare to land somewhere in the middle? There’s no beating Jonathan and Arabella, of course,” Segundus smiled shyly at his plate. 

Childermass nodded. “Well, thankfully Strange is familiar with Vinculus’s...peculiarities. Anything that happens, he’ll assume that it’s Vinculus’s doing and not failures on our part.”

“Ah. Right. Um…” Segundus took a breath. “It’s just that...well, I think everyone else is planning on coming to watch.”

“Oh.” Childermass set down his fork. “If I knew any better ways to prepare, I would tell you, but with Vinculus you never know what you’re going to get. You’ve been very good at acting this whole time though, so I think we’ll be alright,” he reasoned. Not to mention that it was definitely not acting on his side of it at all, so that probably helped as well. 

“Acting. Right,” Segundus said very quietly. He paused for a moment. “Maybe,” he licked his lips, an entirely distracting movement, and his eyes lit up a bit like they did when he figured out a new direction to take an article. “Do you think that maybe we should practice? Kissing. Like we did with the hugs. In case...in case they make us again,” he added nervously, and Childermass’s heart was about to give out with what was being asked of him. “So it doesn’t look like we, well, I, um. I’m sure I didn’t- I mean-” he sighed at himself. 

“What I mean to say is, to make it look more natural. I- I’m not. I haven’t...oh, dear…” he trailed off, looking rather embarrassed and much more pink than when he had begun.

_ Oh.  _

All of this was because Segundus was afraid someone would be able to tell that he had inexperience in kissing. John’s heart screamed at him to offer to teach him, to agree to practice, even though it would hurt so much more when this was all said and done, especially if Segundus found out his true feelings. 

“Alright,” he said softly, rising from the rickety desk chair and moving slowly around to John’s side of the table. 

Kneeling on the carpeted floor between Segundus’s knees, they were of a similar height. And Childermass was at war with himself on how to proceed with something he wanted  _ so badly  _ that he didn’t know how to handle it. 

John looked terrified again, his big beautiful eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. But Childermass was learning that this was not fear of this, not fear of him. Perhaps a fear of the unknown, a fear of inexperience. A tiny whisper in his heart said that maybe it was also a fear of having something so close that you knew you couldn’t keep. But that was probably just his own fear he was projecting outward. 

He leaned forward, cupping Segundus’s face in both of his palms, marveling at the soft skin beneath his fingertips, the way his face fit so perfectly in his hands. There was a tiny twitch of a nervous smile on Segundus’s face, and Childermass leaned in the last few inches to gently press his lips to that smile. 

John let out a small gasp, hands fluttering over Childermass’s wrists as he didn’t know what to do with them, and let his lips move hesitantly, gently, softly, against Childermass’s own. A tiny “ _ oh _ ” escaped his mouth as Childermass’s tongue traced over his bottom lip. Childermass deepened the kiss, Segundus’s hands settling one in his hair and one on his shoulder, pulling him in closer. 

Childermass knew in that moment that he would want to kiss John Segundus for the rest of his life. And it would still never be enough. 


End file.
